The Shadows of Steel
The Storm The Land of Water is notorious for its tumultuous history, rife with conflict and civil war. It is a nation of scattered islands, surrounded by oceanic waters said to consume and devour all but the bravest of sailors. Like its people, it is cruel and ruthless. The strong survive and the weak perish, such is the undisputed law governing these islands. Under the dark canopy of the stormy sky, chaotic forces clash beneath. A flash of lightning, and thunder booms in concert with a raucous detonation that sends bits and pieces of molten metal rocketing to the waters. This particular island is wrought with devastation, for its two inhabitants are at war. Craters and smoldering rock dot across its landscape. Entire regions gouged as though a massive sword had plummeted from the heavens. The stench of ozone is thick and heavy, as explosions continue to pepper its surface. Through it all, through this symphony of destruction is the howling laughter of one in chorus with roaring fury of another. It is beautiful. Yamanaka Akihiko thinks that the visage before him is truly a work of art. He leans to the side narrowly evading the chakra-infused fist that would turn an ordinary man's head into pulp with an amused smile. Sliding out of her reach he darts back, laying a minefield of exploding tags in his wake, his fingers a lit with mystic power as he draws eldritch symbols in the air which thrum briefly with power before releasing another series of detonations. But his opponent is undeterred, as walls of steel take the brunt of his attack. Flickering once more his form blurs into three and he takes to melee once again. It is a dance of death. His clones and his adversary trade blows, faster than the eye can see, in an instant his clones close in before detonating once more, hurling earth and shrapnel. To his delight she emerges unscathed, as she fixes him a contemptuous glare. A wave of her hand and the steel flickers into existence, row after row of razor sheets before she gestures hurling the wall of death his way. He slithers through the maelstrom like water, lightly stepping and evading, gazing at her the entire time, a cheshire grin etched onto his face. When at last the hail of steel ends he stands, and gestures grandly. The implication clear. Stalemate. "Come now," he purred. "You didn't think it would be that easy did you?" "Of course not," Sayuri retorted, lavishly emerging from within the war torn abyss. "You would not have been worthy of once being my subordinate otherwise." As she took her time in confronting him once more, a trickle of blood seeped beginning from her forehead, and taking a shortcut between her eyes, followed the same path down to her chin. Her clothes were tattered, with her kimono harnessing but a single sleeve and a noticeable rip along her thigh. Though most of all, a dreadful smirk possessed her beauty, embedding a vile aspiration of sin within her being, which she conveyed ferociously through her scorching red eyes; eyes that truly belonged to her forefathers, who looking upon her now from the blazing chambers of hell could manage nothing more than a subtle hint of pride. It was within her very blood to behave in such a manner; only, she had seemed to have lost her way, somewhere along the path of becoming the Hokage. But now, within the heat of battle, her true instincts had yet again awakened. With the flames encompassing the island, she couldn't have felt more at home. Sayuri's right hand curled into a tempered fist along her hip, before an exuberant beam of utter chaos oozed from the pores of her bicep --whose sheer magnitude revoked the earth beneath her-- and delicately worked to magnify the dexterity of her flesh by converting it into hardened steel. A heave of steam lingered about the arm as it concluded its transformation, only to be met halfway by a torch that commenced at her fingertip and continued until it devoured the entire weapon, encasing it in an additional layer of flames that fed virtually off of her own sweat. Within the next instance, a crater formed beneath her swollen bare feet, and she exploded forward, dragging her arm behind her, prompting a long trail of flames to aid her in suit. As she neared her target, her teeth were once more reunited and her sharingan captured the image of her former disciple. Akihiko's features curled in amusement. Reaching into his cloak he quickly withdrew a smoke pellet, hurling it into the ground. In an instant Akihiko was enveloped in a choking smog of smoke, hidden from sight. Though it may have been a second too late as Sayuri's steel encased fist, wreathed in crimson flame, simply blew the distraction away with its force. She saw that flicker of surprise on his face before her hand was buried in it. The sickening crunch that followed would have been satisfying, had her Sharingan not revealed to her the ruse. In another plume of smoke, Akihiko was replaced by, of all things--- a log. Where he found one on this desecrated island is anyone's guess. In her peripheral vision her Sharingan detected a trace of movement, and there was Akihiko hurling a salvo of kunai in her direction, familiar streamers whipping in the wind in their wake. Her concentration was interrupted by a hiss as another pellet, presumably dropped during his escape began releasing a highly reactive gas that would no doubt turn what would have been a nuisance of detonations into an all consuming conflagration around her. The sheer winds accompanying Sayuri's relentless drive cut through the cloud of smoke, dealing a horrendous blow to what initially appeared to be Akihiko, only to be replaced by a log at the very last second. The blazing aura from around her arm exploded, sending a surge of energy forth that crackled the ground and demolished the log into dust, though even after such a terrorizing feat, the flames remained in full anguish, awaiting their very next opportunity. Sayuri turned quickly, and she was met just then by a flurry of kunai, carrying invitations for her funeral; a second grenade sounded below her, summoning forth a substance that would work to strengthen the incoming blast. The entire play had been executed perfectly. All that remained to be seen now, was Sayuri's counter attack. Stopping on a dime, the busty kunoichi turned to face the incoming projectiles, and without so much as a gesture, the kunai froze in midair for just an instant, and turning around, changed their trajectory; this time, however, they took to the skies and detonated as their timer gave in, making for quite the explosion nonetheless, even without ever tasting the gaseous substance Akihiko had prepared earlier. It was an obscene sight, that Sayuri had somehow orchestrated the man's attack for her own benefit. With the power of the infamous metal release came both the production and manipulation of all metals, even those that she herself had not created. For this reason, weapons were futile against Sayuri, and when pitted in a war format such as this, made for a truly difficult cover. Utilizing the detonation between them as a means to conceal her own movements, Sayuri escaped from the ensuing gas before the remnants of the blast managed to spread backward and make for an even greater explosion. Because the smoke itself was not laced with chakra, Sayuri's sharingan proved as a valuable asset in order to more efficiently navigate through the area, until Akihiko's figure was once more clear. Maintaining her distance, the woman utilized the very same technique as she did before, though in a completely different manner. Plunging her arm into the ground, she channeled her flames inside, prompting cracks to form all over the terrain. The entire island seemed as though it was suddenly trembling in fear of her might, as a volcano began to form beneath the Yamanaka's feet, ready to erupt within a moment's notice and unleash upon him a scorching hot geyser filled with Uchiha redemption. Akihiko clicked his tongue in annoyance at seeing his attack redirected as it was. Seems that Sayuri was through playing around. Still her anger had yet to abate and her stubbornness and straightforward attack while simple was nonetheless deadly. He could feel the earth beneath him groaning, as cracks splintered outward from where her fist had penetrated the earth, faint light emanating from their crevices. The low rumbling giving way to a booming crescendo as the ground began oozing out streams of white hot magma. He had precious little time to admire the apocalypse before the earth beneath him belched geysers of molten rock. He somersaulted backwards, evading the follow up cascading eruptions, before slamming a fist into the ground and wrenching a massive slab of stone and heaving above his head. Timing it right he flipped himself forward, reorienting the rock, and just in time, as yet another geyser burst open beneath him. The stone slab absorbed the impact, and promptly jettisoned him and his makeshift shield upwards into the sky. With a burst of strength he leapt off the disintegrating mass, and stared in admiration of the volcanic wasteland that greeted his eyes below. Bringing his right hand up he formed a single seal. A surge of chakra, a plume of smoke and vertigo. In his place was a falcon, and he sped forward weaving through the rain of smoke and fire, his small form affording him even greater maneuverability. He spiraled past a surging gout of flame, its searing heat nearly destabilizing the chakra-matrix that sustained his technique. But in his haste a stray blog of lava nipped at his 'wings' shattering the ninjutsu and he was human again, and in free-fall. He barely managed another evasion, as a wave of lava blasted through his previous space, but was clipped by debris before crashing haphazardly into the ground his body bouncing across the landscape before skidding to a stop well outside the zone of her attack. Letting out a humorless laugh he dragged himself up into a standing position, looking only slightly ruffled for his efforts. Then he blurred out of sight, hurling pellets wrapped in tags at her feet. In the same instant throwing a particularly nasty illusion at her. With the Sharingan she would no doubt dispel it, but the object was to create a momentary diversion whilst her vision was clouded in phantasm. Speeding forward, he twisted mid-air and in a deft spin gouged out a chunk of rock shaped like a spear with a spinning kick. Completing his rotation he reached out grasping hold of his tool coating the earthen pole-arm with chakra, considerably enhancing its penetrating force and then hurled it. Without even bothering for a hand seal, intangible clones darted forward positioning themselves in front of the speeding spear. With multiple constructs of chakra in her direct line of view, the intent was to hide the extended reach of the spear. Sayuri did all but wait as she watched Akihiko deal with the ensuing chain of disaster of what was the after effect of her last technique. Lava spewed essentially everywhere, and she herself was forced to back pedal in order to escape its line of sight. With whatever time she had been supplied, she clipped her hands together and concentrated chakra within every ounce of her body, so as to invoke a thin coat of blue energy that appeared around her frame as an outline. It served to enrich her movements more than anything, though also engaged her mind to remain stable; she noticed a pattern circulating within her opponent, who seemed to be growing more and more sadistic as the battle dragged on. He was surely enjoying himself to another extent, and Sayuri was not certain if she could match his exact enthusiasm. As far as she could tell, Akihiko had an absurd obsession with using pellets, especially those with armed explosives. While precise, they indicated a subtle level of shinobi warfare and Sayuri needed to prove to him that she was far beyond that. Weaving a single hand sign, she diverted her attention towards the incoming projectiles, individually encasing each of them within a layer of her metal, and then commanding them into the ground, where they were forcibly detonated. The metallic wrapping masked the explosions effectively, preventing so much as a fume from leaking free from within its borders. However, paying too much attention towards the explosives resulted in her being caught within a genjutsu, though with the use of her sharingan, she broke free rather swiftly, something Akihiko had been expecting. For, as she regained consciousness, Sayuri was met by a squadron of clones, which much to her chagrin, slipped through her as she tried to defend herself against them, leaving her wide open. Against an opponent of Akihiko's caliber, leaving her guard down was much too costly; the stone collided with her hardened body, and sparks flew at every which angle as she cupped her hands around it. The soles of her feet sank in to the soft earth, and before she knew it, she was heaved backward along with the spear, her feet dragging along with her. For several more seconds she struggled, until her hands managed to deprive the stone of its life by absorbing the applied energy. With that, she came to a sudden stop, and crushed the spear into tiny pieces of dust by overpowering it with her gloves of tempered steel. Presenting her palms in the direction of her opponent, Sayuri unleashed a barrage of metallic shards consisting of an endless array of small projectiles. They could have best been compared to senbon, only they were much more durable, having been created from her metal release. She waited until Akihiko would have been caught within the center of the storm to initiate the true phase of her technique. Each individual shard carried the distinct formula of her hiraishin spell as it was birthed, employing warping potential to and from each. In preparation, Sayuri's body covered itself within the same fabric, from head to toe; spikes protruded from every inch of her body, supplementing extremely potent slicing capabilities. Then, surpassing even the level of comprehension, she vanished from plain view with a burst of yellow light, and reappeared through one of the many shards within the storm, before trading places with another, repeatedly. As she jumped from each shard, her body would have grazed Akihiko, cutting him into pieces in preparation for dinnertime. Already resorting to the Flying Thunder God? he thought, bemusedly. For Sayuri to feel so pressured as to unveil the crowning achievement of the Fourth, how the mighty have fallen. Grinning at the approaching hailstorm of steely death, he leapt into the air with a twist kicking up dust and debris, a moment later a massive plume of smoke briefly obscured his presence and the wall of death punched straight through the haze, encircling it. As Sayuri flashed forward intent on shredding Akihiko with her body, she found that he had somehow evaded her death trap. But a flicker of chakra sped across her field of vision during a teleportation and it was in the next one that she saw a stray senbon tumble from the whirling maelstrom of death, except its chakra signature was far greater than what she had infused in her creations. In the next moment its appearance fizzled out revealing a slightly haggard Akihiko, sporting numerous holes through his cloak. He had but a few cuts across his person but nothing substantial or debilitating. Flickering through from one sealing formula to the next her it was apparent to Akihiko that she was counting on the instantaneous speed granted by the Flying Thunder God to eviscerate him. That is until he withdrew from his sleeve a stone club roughly twice his size in height and used it as a blunt shield against her assault. Akihiko swung his earthen tetsubo with unearthly speed and grace, the moment Sayuri dashed forward, smashing into her form. Steel grinded against stone, but the woman's body flooded with its potent chakra completely obliterated his makeshift weapon during the pass. Flickering to another swirling senbon she darted forward, only to be met with a twin flickering earthen swords which he used to expertly parry her assault once more. His blades slide against her body cracking the steely protrusions as he slide beneath her attack, and just as quickly discarding his now defunct weapons. It was like a dance, time and time again she hurled herself with the speed granted by the Flying Thunder God, but in every pass, every flickering maneuver he met her blow for blow, drawing upon an armory of weapons at his disposal, all either stone or wooden, preventing her from using her ability to bend metal to her will. He moved lightly between her attacks, using the force of her own blows to stay just outside of her reach. She saw her chance when a massive cleaver of his shattered when she strengthened her body during one pass, using the opportunity to ram herself into his person with extreme prejudice. At the moment multiple things happened at once. His body disappeared in a plume of chakra infused smoke momentarily blinding her as she had ran straight into it. Even then her Sharingan pierced through the feeble attempt at deception as she could clearly see that he had assumed the form of a small rock. Using a transformation to evade her attack, what was the point? Her eyes shifted off to the side and she could see one of the shattered remains of his sword flying out of the trap. Just as quickly he bodily replaced himself with the flying shard... a shard now bearing a sizzling explosive tag that detonated sending rock and steel flying in all directions. In the midst of the confusion, the wall of steel she had used to trap the man had weakened just enough for him to slip out. Wreathed in smoke, his form was revealed to have suffered little from the point blank explosion. In the near instant he had transposed himself he summoned forth two immense tower-shields to serve as protection against his own attack. Still his ears were ringing and the concussive force had damaged him to some degree, but that said nothing for Sayuri who was at point-zero of the explosion. Akihiko was no fool, given her formidable defenses, he was confident that she had survived with relatively few injuries. However, the disorientation, possible momentary deafness, lack of visibility, and shock of seeing her gambit defeated might give him the window he needed. He weaved a series of layered illusions, hiding one within the other and so on. Should any one illusion be defeated the other will immediately spring up to take its place. The first illusion was a simple misdirection, targeted specifically on Sayuri herself. Its design was to shift her sense of direction, thereby buying him just a few more seconds. The second illusion was a subtle shift in the surroundings, rearranging the battlefield. With both working in tandem, the intent was to disorient Sayuri with the shift in her directional sense, combined with the rearrangement of the battlefield to completely obscure his own position. Finally the last illusion was placed over the field itself, in essence serving as a secondary layer, by which if the second were to be dispelled this one would rearrange the the contents of the battlefield. Given the trauma Sayuri might have suffered it is possible for her to succumb to the illusion, even if only for a few moments. With his field-type illusions in place, Akihiko wove another set, spreading a thin veil over the area causing swarms of clones to arise from the ground and nearby debris and converging on Sayuri. Satisfied with his little trap, he darted across the area, slapping explosive sealing tags on the ground, all of which were hidden by the layers of genjutsu, thus beginning the next phase of his plan. The pleasant figure of Uchiha Sayuri emerged from within the confinements of the detonation, tainted black. Residue of the blast was left all over her physique, though quickly dissipated as she recalled her metal armor, allowing it to crackle and fall in between her bare feet. As the shell opened, her true form was revealed in full, complete with her angelic white flesh and glossy brown hair. It was quite evident that the armor had sustained majority of the physical trauma, as not a single newly inflicted wound could be seen across the entirety of her body; however, there was no getting beyond the mental frustration that came along with it, which was all Akihiko had accounted for in the first place. With her refined senses weakened, she was now especially susceptible to his genjutsu, which, when executed through himself, transcended to become one of the utmost caliber. Recovering quickly, Sayuri was thrown off for that one instant. Against Akihiko, who had already proven himself superior to the Flying Thunder God, that mere instance was extremely crucial, and all the more unforgiving. She would have hardly made out the difference between reality and the illusion if it were not for the tamed tomoe of her crimson eye; working to combat the genjutsu on its own accord, it swiftly conquered the surrounding illusions and proclaimed truth to the fair maiden. Still yet, by the time this was all achieved, a mass of clones fashioned like an army of undead zombies intending on challenging her emerged from beneath her, and she was forced to retreat backward towards a shard she had fired in the past to properly evade them, before she once more returned to the cold, harsh reality of their battle in full, once more free of the petty hallucinations and for the time being, the zombies. It was then that the thought came into her mind. While she had not yet unleashed her full wrath upon her former subordinate, he appeared completely intent on forcing her to do so. The various techniques he had so far revealed, while they were enhanced through his own expertise, were no more than those taught at the beginner level. She couldn't help but feel disrespected at the idea that he truly believed he could bring her down using only them. It was time for her to take things up a notch. The zombies wasted little to no time in relocating Sayuri, and just as they were programmed, they once more offered their humblest of efforts in giving chase. Curling her hands into tightened fists, Sayuri brought them to simmer beside her hips, before tucking her rear end beneath her and taking a very defined stance. Upon stomping her bare heel into the ground, she provoked a small quake, which in turn, resulted in the formation of a fragile crack. Her hands then reunited beneath her inflated chest, taking the role of a key to trigger her next move. In that very instant, a hot geyser erupted from the previous fissure she had created, and abiding to the fluctuation of her chakra, swiftly took the form of a serpent dragon with an elongated jaw. With one meaningful movement, the creature boomed, unleashing a deafening roar, and in the next instant, flew over Sayuri's head and devoured the clones with one fell swoop. The dragon was far from done after all that, however, as it soon paced itself forward, where it progressed into a berserk rampage. The long water body of the dragon swayed from side to side as it scaled the terrain, causing the landmines Akihiko had planted earlier to detonate, slowly crippling the dragon until it diminished into nothing more than a puddle of steaming water. Sayuri's hands once more separated and fell back down to her waist, where she cupped her hands and motioned as if she were releasing a sword from its scabbard. Abiding to her wishes, a long katana was forged from thin air, which she welcomed with a firm grip around the hilt. She then shifted it to rest up over by her head, arching the blade to represent a poised scorpion awaiting its chance to strike a lethal blow. There is a saying, that the best laid plans often go awry, and for Akihiko such a statement has never been more true. His clones, dissipated as the massive liquid construct made short work of them and the seals he had placed were either too drenched to be of any use or had detonated as planned when the water dragon came in proximity. Regardless, Sayuri had handedly annihilated his little gambit with all the effort of a derisive wave of her hand. It seemed she had finally caught on to his actual plan then. Well now that his strategy had been discovered he supposed it was time to lessen the shackles that restrained him so. Appearing thirty paces before her in shimmer of light, the tell-tale signs of his genjutsu-enhanced speed faded away. There he stood, arms splayed outward in a grand welcoming gesture, his cloak fluttering in the wind, a toothless smile spread across his face. Then in a dramatic motion he began to clap. "Well, it seems you've finally emerged from the haze of your blood-rage. I believe that qualified well enough as a warm-up, wouldn't you agree?" he asked amicably. Reaching into his sleeve he drew forth a saber that seemed to absorb all light around it, like a thin sliver of void greedily lapping at the illumination of creation. It was a stone blade, that weighed half as much as a grown man, but its properties were legendary. Extremely resistant to heat, it had a razor edge that could cleave stone, yet had the durability that exceeded even steel. It was a rare earthen material found only in the volcano’s of Kumogakure’s mountains, and was that a single dagger costs enough to purchase a small army. “Oh, you wish to have a battle of swords then? Well I shan’t keep a lady waiting. We shall see if your swordsmanship has improved since the last time we crossed blades milady.” He gripped the sword lightly at his side, taking a rather neutral stance, seemingly leaving himself wide open. That is until he took his first step. To an observer it was as if he simply phased out of existence, but her eyes revealed the truth. Swift was he, that he crossed the distance between them nigh instantaneously, the air itself was displaced as a thunderous boom echoed in his wake. He reappeared before her hanging in the air, his obsidian hued blade poised to strike, and then she saw the tell-tale signs of a rapidly approaching shockwave emanate from the tip of his blade where it pierced, the sound barrier, unleashing a wave of crashing penetrative force towards her. In the same motion, his arm flickered and his sword became a blur of darkness before it too defied logic, seemingly splitting into three blades descending from her either side and front. Again her Sharingan pierced the illusion he wove, only to discover no trickery, no deception. He was simply moving quickly enough as to attack her nearly instantly from three angles in the span of a single attack. The dreadful gaze of the serene empress yet again sprang to mind, deciphering the brisk movements of her opponent. They foresaw even the future, fracturing the delicate fabrics of space and time as they fell upon a certain position in the sky; surely enough, his form appeared within the next instant, unleashing a finely crafted crescent of energy her way. In response, she too channeled her spirit into the tip of her blade, leading two penetrative forces to greet one another. The result was a devastating explosion, the likes of which stirred the ground and invoked a cloud filled of debris to scatter about. Even with such a mask, Sayuri's sharingan saw no equal, as it very well ignored the smoke and made only the ensuing movement of her enemy apparent. Any ordinary shinobi would have lost his life to the beat of his own heart before such turbulence. She, however, possessed a refined physique capable of matching such speed. For a being of Sayuri's caliber, there seemed to be a slight hiatus within the period of Akihiko's assault. With a firm grip about her weapon, she parried first to her left, and then again to her right, before ultimately planting her weapon into the ground, so as to meet an incoming third strike. Her palms went to rest upon the pommel of her blade as the tip itself was buried into the earth, fending off the might of Akihiko's clearly superior weapon. The sword did not budge an inch, and any previously identified ripples across its length were quickly regenerated, as if the iron itself possessed some sort of bizarre healing capabilities. "They say a weapon is only as powerful as the one who wields it," Sayuri snickered, as a playful grin formed on one side of her elegant facial structure. "When two blades meet, however, it is nothing more than a test of physical strength. I wonder, can you match the might of a Senju?" Holding his weapon in place with the inheritable might of Tsunade, Sayuri parted her lips, firing a dozen senbon at the man before her. The smaller the metal, the quicker it traveled through the air, that much was fundamental. At the same time, the katana submerged half way into the ground began to feed off the natural elements existent beneath the battlefield, drawing them towards itself. Chakra siphoned from Sayuri's body itself ran down the length of the blade in return, supplying the realms of the underground with as much as it took out. Flashing a smirk at her provocation, he opened his mouth to retort only to find a barrage of senbon hurtling towards his face for the effort. The look of hurt on his face was priceless, and Sayuri was thankful that her Sharingan would forever immortalize this moment in her memory. Said amusement was wiped from her face however when Akihiko reacted with speed that was far higher than any shinobi of his level should have been capable of. Launching himself backward his arms flickered, and with deft precision his hands snatched four of the senbons midflight, grasped in his hands like chopsticks before using the acquired weapons expertly to deflect the rest of the senbons. All this in the window of less than a second. Regardless in his haste he was forced to relinquish a hold on his weapon, allowing it to clatter to the ground. "Still riding on the coat-tails of your ancestors I see?" he said landing in a low crouch. Rising up to his full stature he flashed her a disarming smile. "Yet for all the power of the Senju and Uchiha they were wiped out in the end, such a tragic fate. It's a wonder how any of their progeny maintains such hubris." Shifting his body he adopts an unusual stance. To her trained eyes it appeared to be a derivative or some variation of Iwagakure taijutsu. He gives her a mocking bow and then his chakra flares. His leg snaps upward, a massive conflux of tightly compressed chakra swirling at its tip before he brings it down releasing it in a titanic explosion. The earth buckles and groans for a moment, but then it gives and there is naught by chaotic upheaval as the ground splits open before him. Like a scalpel the earth is reaved apart tearing open a massive gouge stretching from onward to Sayuri. Her blade which had once been imbedded deep into the earth was freed, as the ground simply gave way followed by the cloud of dust and debris. She has only a moment to make her next action before he senses pick up a surge of chakra in the sky above. Through the cloud of dust she can hear the melodious thrum of chakra, and with her Sharingan she can see it spiraling around his chambered arm. That little trick I showed you earlier was '''nothing' compared to the real thing. Let me show you the technique that spawned the Hell Stab!'' His voice did not register from her ears, and to her growing alarm realized that rather it came from within her own mind. Hanging in the air Akihiko thrust his knifehand downward, with such speed as to shattering all manners of barriers; speed, sound, air, it did not matter, they were all violently ripped apart in that instant. There is no sound, for the world is muted by the attack. Rippling shockwaves emanate outward from the apex of his attack, expanding outward faster than the eye could see. Everything from the clouds in the sky to the earth below is blown away. The entire battlefield flattens from the sheer concussive force, as though smashed by the angry fist of a heavenly god before it too is pulverized by the continuous waves of force that barrels downward. There was hardly anytime to react, let alone breath. The last thing Sayuri remembered was firing a dozen senbon through her mouth, before the mental projection of Akihiko crept within her mind, discerning her morale. It played perfectly into the entire sequence, whether or not it was truly intended to be apart of the assault. The sudden emergence of words within her head that did not belong to her was enough to throw her off balance. Her head sprang upward, so as to catch a glimpse of the dagger looming forth; her weapon fell from her grasp, as her arms came to her defense at the very last instant. A deafening clash capable of shaking even the heavens commenced. However, in this instance, Akihiko's might proved superior, for he had established too much momentum to emerge a failure now. Even with her arms tainted black by the metals residing within her being, Sayuri felt herself losing ground. Her feet chiseled against the dirt infested terrain, before her entire shape began to submerge into bedrock, only for it too, to be completely shattered. Both sides of her teeth united, pitted into an endless battle. With proper timing, her lips were sealed as an array of cracks tore apart the rest of the island, capturing up to her waist in water. She held on for just a second longer, before the almighty force of her opponent overwhelmed her, sending her down towards the ocean floor like a rocket. A series of explosions sounded, one after the other, as Sayuri plowed through the sinking masses of land that had come down along with her. She thrusted her body swiftly in retaliation, relying strictly upon instinct within the dire situation, in attempt to soften some of the impact. As she grew further in her descent, the surrounding waters were shaped into pillars, leaving an entire circle free of plague. When she finally reached the bottom of the ocean, her form was completely visible to the floating Akihiko, in all its dismay. For a moment, she appeared to be defeated, as she lied there on her backside, blood oozing from her mouth. When suddenly, a single one of her fingers twitched, leading the others into a curled fist. With her eyes still closed, her lips formed into a devilish grin. A horrific laughter escaped her mouth next, as a chill was sent down along her spine. And then, it was all blatantly interrupted... by a moan. Akin to the purr of a sly kitty cat, she bellowed, issuing her mating call as if she were actually enjoying this. As she made to sit up, she ran her thumb along her cheek, collecting the spilt blood and transferring it to her mouth for a taste. This was, apparently, how she rated each of her battles. "Mmmm, it's unlike it ever has been. This flavor; yes, it is truly exquisite," Sayuri said, rising to her feet at last. As she looked up towards Akihiko, a sadistic expression --one without regard for human life-- sat upon her visage, complimenting the surge of murderous intent within her red eyes. Evidently, her Uchiha blood had finally come to a boil. The Wisp Even in the brink of extermination, Sayuri had managed to unleash her counterattack, only it had gone unacknowledged. During their brief alteration, just before donning a layer of iron over her arms and being sent flying backward, Sayuri had managed to give off a subtle discharge of her own chakra into Akihiko's fist. While whether or not he had made note of this was yet to be seen, the small ounce of chakra she had implanted within him had climbed up through his fingers and up to his shoulder in the time spent in her recovery. What began as a mere instruction had grown into a parasyte over time, one that was not so easily identifiable because of the complex formula that went along with it. Strengthening itself from the iron residing within its opponent's blood cells --much like the phathomal kubikiribocho-- Sayuri's chakra essentially hid within them afterward, in the hopes of spreading throughout the rest of the human body. There was a certain feature installed within them, which Sayuri was about to demonstrate. Holding up her right hand, Sayuri united her middle and index fingers, forming but a single hand sign. This provoked the chakra nestled within Akihiko's arm to expand, inflating the flesh as if it were some kind of balloon. If he were unable to catch on, Akihiko would have lost his arm to a deadly chakra explosion, just as the pillars of water began their descent. To master nenjutsu, one must be intimately aware of their own chakra and senses, lest they fall into dementia, hallucinations, and extreme sensory overload or deprivation. He knew of Sayuri's propensity to use such a tactic in order to end conflicts. But really he should have been better prepared, but as it is, the solution was well within his means, though certainly not the most preferable. Quickly procuring a sealing tag from within his robes, he wrestles for a moment with his spasming arm before slapping the tag on it. He can immediately feel its effects, as the chakra draining seal begins its work in siphoning off Sayuri's chakra from within his system. Sadly the process will take some time, even then he won't have full access to his own reserves, limiting him from accessing his higher level techniques. "And here I thought you were ready to get serious," he said while adjusting the seal. It would be a few minutes before his body was purged of Sayuri's chakra completely, however this would prevent her from exploiting her little trick in the future. Landing atop the water he fixed the red-eyed woman with a curious stare. "I'm surprised you could so easily survive the full might of the Thunders Sword Sayuri. Very impressive, but perhaps you'll continue to indulge me, I've still got the other fighting styles I haven't used yet." His hand flashed into a single seal; briefly illuminated by a pulse of chakra, though the grimace on his features was evident enough that even that required substantially more chakra than he had been willing to give. A series sealing formula pooled from his feet racing towards Sayuri who suddenly found the ocean she was standing on abruptly vanish as it was consumed in a generic storage seal. The moment her footing was gone, Akihiko disappeared beneath the waves, his form obscured by the murky depths. A moment later he erupted from the water at her flank, spinning wildly as his arms swept the waters, the powerful physical forces upturning a surge of salt water in a veritable tsunami. Like a steel wall, the wave crushed anything in its path as it sped towards the smiling woman. In that same instant he flickered from his position, appearing at her other flank arm whipping about as a torrent of stone chains exploded from his sleeve, a cascade of lances, swords and other weapons attached at their ends, all composed of the same inky black earthen material. Together the two attacks served to box Sayuri in a vicious pincer attack. "I’d hardly call it easy," Sayuri asserted, running a hand along her neck. "Really, you’ve done quite a number on me already. I can’t remember the last time my body felt this… invigorating." It was then that she lost her footing and very slowly began to lean backward, her eyes forced to observe the clouds above. As she grew further in her descent, the venomous grin across her face only multiplied. While Akihiko presented slightly different mechanics, the concept behind his approach remained the same. She had analyzed it countless times now; the sudden burst of speed; the fluctuation of his chakra; his gift of hanging in the air. It had all become redundant to her eyes. "Is it really a good idea to engage me in close quarters like this with only one good arm?" she chimed, tilting her head past her shoulders to look at him upended. "Where are those fighting styles you spoke of earlier? Are you all out of tricks? Surely there is more to your power than this!" Akihiko would suddenly experience a throbbing sensation in his bandaged arm. For a moment, even his genius-level intellect may have questioned the strange phenomenon, though he would very swiftly think back to an earlier point in the battle and recall her usage of the technique in a previous instance. It was the darned Flying Thunder God again, only this time, Sayuri was using the remains of her chakra in his arm as a catalyst; what’s more, she had waited for the seemingly perfect opportunity to strike, just as his vast array of weapons had been released from the sleeve of his functional arm, so as to capture him in the tiny window in which it could not come to his aid. Her body protruding a series of sharp blades, she elected the space between his shoulder and armpit to teleport to, vanishing with a bright surge of light as the many weapons phased through her previous location, allowing not even so much as a hint of her movements to be wasted in her attempt to claim the waning arm entirely. For the briefest of moments, time had seemingly stopped, the flow of time caught in a vice-grip as everything around Akihiko halted before his eyes. He had felt it the moment Sayuri tried to inflict her will upon him, the tendrils of her chakra that still remained within him taking on a very peculiar form. It was this that caused him to tap into his own mind, altering his perception of time so that a single moment stretched onward for minutes. Such a trick was necessary because he was simply put--- stunned. Yes, Akihiko was caught and quite hilariously at that flat-footed. He knew that she knew that he was quite the accomplished seal master, more than that he too was a wielder of the infamous Flying Thunder God sealing formula. Now, despite the rise of its number of users, each one had to perfect and create their own unique sealing formula. This formula was the most closely guarded secret of the technique for it had that, well any accomplished master with knowledge of the technique's inner workings could reverse engineer it, re-purpose it, and obtain root access in their adversary's very own network. So he was summarily shocked beyond measure that Sayuri of all people would deign to place her seal on him, essentially giving him the key to unlock and use every single seal she has ever created that remains. He was a master of his mind, body and chakra. Her attempts to wrest control out of someone whose only real strength lied in their mastery of the mind and sealing was, arrogant to say the least. He could feel each mote of her chakra as it formed the seal that served as her beacon. With his chakra control it was a trifling matter to trace the very seal that formed within his arm, analyze it and comprehend the formula. Well the times for games had already reached its conclusion. Perhaps by cornering her, he could then push the woman to the brink and beyond. It took little time in deciphering her seal and as the milliseconds ticked by, now approaching ten, he had all but memorized the formula she had used. Using her own usage of the technique was a carrier he hurled himself through spacetime in nearly the same instant she did as well. He would never forget the look upon her face as they passed by one another in the dimensional void. Unfortunately with his timing Sayuri's original destination did not actually exist, thankfully, the technique comes with its own failsafes and she would simply appear at the nearest marker. Whereas Akihiko, well he found himself appearing in a golden flash of light in the heart of Konoha itself. He took the next instant to remove what traces remained of her chakra within him by expelling what was left and channeling it into the chakra draining seal. It also helped that he now had a perfectly preserved storage of her very unique chakra. Ripping off the chakra draining seal he then stored it on his person. With that finished, he smiled playfully as the full implications of what was at his fingertips dawned on him. This was going to be so much fun. First he applied the Fury sealing formula on himself before creating a single shadow clone bearing its own version of the seal. Then after removing it from his person he had the clone make use of Sayuri's Flying Thunder God seal and teleport near her home. Although it would take some time to gather enough natural energy to destroy say a village, obliterating a home required substantially less time. It was time to raise the stakes, if he wanted Sayuri to take this battle just little more seriously. One could say that the second phase of their battle had finally begun. But first, he needed to get the other participant, and knowing of her chakra sensory prowess he briefly flared his own, allowing her to hone in on his position whilst he waited, and prepared. A bright flash, shimmering to emphasize its failure in following through with its original mindset, suddenly diffused, causing a single senbon to flip away from its family. The fair maiden, her luscious brown hair flowing behind her with the aid of a subtle breeze, appeared through the golden light and stood over whatever was left of the island in contempt. Being so very close in forever altering the tide of battle was not the easiest of things to move away from, especially not after it resulted in complete backfire, as if someone had walloped their load directly into her charming face. Sayuri bit her lip. It was then that she felt the sudden surge of chakra emanating all the way from Konoha, more specifically, in the direction of her home, which only proved to solidify the greatest of her fears —that bastard had arrived at her doorstep, in more ways than one. With his synchronization to her Raijin formula, Akihiko would have access to even her metal creations, as they all very well ran behind the basis of her chakra. Deciphering chakra coding had always been his strength, and the not so obvious trick behind his passive mind reading ability. More or less, she needed first to alter the signature of her own chakra, so that she could disconnect herself from her past creations, and at the same time, prevent him from turning her next array of techniques against her. On top of that, she would need to be more conscious, starting from this very moment onwards, of releasing chakra from her body, so as to put an end to his game. Sayuri crept into her cleavage and pulled off her kimono, tying the long sleeves around her waist so as to reciprocate a sash of the sorts. This left her upper body vastly exposed, and in nothing more than a thin sheet of cloth, which rounded over her behemoth breasts, though evidently did a poor job of containing them, as even the naked eye could perceive that with enough effort, it was bound to undo itself eventually. Around her umbilical region was a belt crafted of sharkskin, tied directly above her kimono as an additional layer of comfort. For awhile, she stood under the warm rays of the sun, allowing it to bask her with all its glory. She considered the lives of her loved ones, and how it would soon be exploited to bring her within harm's way. It was an unfortunate weakness, mostly because Akihiko had never bothered to establish bonds beyond his enemies, which allowed her with very little to provoke him with in return. She grew jealous; jealous that, from that aspect, he proved largely superior. It would soon be time for the fated battle, one final clash to decide the outcome over everything. However, for now, it was time to make adjustments, to make preparations. The first portion of their fight had left Sayuri with many questions, but she knew now, without a doubt in her mind, that Akihiko was by far the most formidable opponent she had ever faced. Not because of his insurmountable intellect, nor his supreme power, but because he had nothing to lose. And that, was the most dangerous element any man could ever possess. He lived only for himself —for his own aspirations. A goodie two shoes such as Sayuri, who had sucked Danzo dry in her age of adolescence because he had told her it would somehow benefit the village, couldn't even begin to comprehend that degree of freedom. With another flicker, she swept through a parallel universe and climbed into her own personalized dimension for a final time, before electing to retire it completely. Akihiko had seen it far too many times by now; even risking it a second time had been far too risky, but it could never be of any further use to her, not against him. A series of metallic pillars welcomed her, as far as the eye could perceive. They were essentially endless in their numbers, scaling the entirety of the tainted void. However, at the moment, they all responded to her past formula, which she needed now to alter, so that Akihiko could not gain access to her most secure premises. Heaving a hand to the smooth surface, she expanded her will across them all, rewriting the script that existed within her chakra into something entirely different. She recycled her own chakra next, ensuring to dig deep so as to scathe her entire plethora. The last thing she needed was for Akihiko to one up her using a move she had attempted to use against him. What came next was a flurry of emotions, strikingly similar to an addiction —an obsession of the highest order. It had been far too long since she had last experienced the tremendous surge of power of what was her very own originality. Indeed, all this time, Sayuri had been running on a loaner, a rented pair of eyes. No matter how deceiving they had appeared to be, they were never hers to begin with, and greatly hindered her overall strength. She faltered with her footing as she proceeded down a long corridor, unable to suppress her growing excitement. Her breath drew louder as the sight of the bank drew near; a large tank sat in the middle of a dark room, flowing with green liquid and beaming with pure evil. In a fit of panic, she plunged a hole through the glass, causing the water inside to ooze out in terror. It splashed down past her ankles, only she failed to even recognize it, lost in the precious miracle. It had finally happened; the excuse of garnering her Uchiha gore had finally arrived. Without a hint of hesitation, Sayuri ripped out her left eye from its socket, and mercilessly hauled it to one corner of the room. Blood spewed down that side of her face as her hands ventured into the tank and located the treasure. She stood there, with her Mangekyō Sharingan held within the palm of her hands, crying tears of blood. A cold laughter, tainted black with evil sounded from her being next, causing the many corpses she had stored in her dimension to shiver with fear. At last, she carried onward with the rest of the procedure; and at long last, the grueling power had finally returned to her. With the eyes of treason, she planned her escape from the dimension. A powerful gust was released from her eyes, storming forth a horrendous torrent of wind. Spiraling into an endless loop, it consumed her, as if the queen had once more ventured through the gates of hell. The correlating node appeared in Konohagakure, above a building near where her house stood. She stepped through it a second later, her hands intertwined into a hand seal. Her familiar gaze fell upon the sight of her village for the first time in years. She felt Akihiko's chakra in the distance, causing the shredded belt around her waist to tighten. The time of the festival had drawn upon them. The Pendulum The day before... There is something uneasy in Konohagakure this morning, some unnatural stillness, some growing tension. As the sun appeared over the horizon, flocks of birds flew towards the mountains, villagers remained hidden within their homes, and missing-nin seeking a coup instead scurried back into the forests, out of the fear of one horrid reality; there is a frown upon the face of the Hokage. Though they had not yet feasted their eyes on the beauty for confirmation, they knew it well, for their baked lips were evident enough. The sun —as if harnessing her anger— was once more made into nothing more than an enemy; a turbulent ball of flames, it stirred about a series of blistering heat waves, scorching well beyond the boundaries attributed to the Land of Fire. It brought forth the fires of hell, and reintroduced an all too familiar subject to the shinobi of the leaf, cremation. In roost upon her throne, Sayuri's expression is masked by the mound of papers lying in wait on her desk, each column assorted to meet a specific order —her greatest battle in a long while. Her attire is as revealing as always, perhaps now even more so than ever due to the boiling temperatures, and while the writing utensil in her hand would imply that she was at work, this occasion is but an exception, for she is simply in far too much distress to be functioning properly. The day before, she had partaken in another one of her family affairs, which appeared to be becoming more and more frequent with each passing year. They were now annual contests, quite possibly even more so along the lines of very bizarre family reunions, where each member of the immediate Hatake family met to clobber another into the next evening. The subject of the last reunion was in pertinence to her daughter, or more specifically, of her coming of womanhood. Shigemi was now at the ripe age to be considered for marriage, and as it should have turned out, many had offered contracts, or at the very least, verbal interest in her purchase, among which were the ravenous Hyuga; Sayuri was not considering the latter in the slightest. Reputed as Konohagakure's finest regime, the Hyuga were further celebrated for their noble lineage. After Kakashi's retirement, they had risen to even greater ranks by providing women for each of the last two successors of the Hokage position, and Sayuri, of all people, was not about to let them have their way with her village. She had been taught to play the game of politics by the herself. Akin to many teacher-student pairings, Konohamaru elected Sayuri as the Ninth, and with her ascension, she promised to revive the name of the Hatake. She knew far too well, from being the hybrid of two extinct families, the feeling of being defeated, of being forgotten. Never again did she want to experience such a disaster. This time, she would prepare for an endless reign at the top, and the best way to secure a place for the future was through the act of marriage. Marriage was nothing more than a business to Sayuri. As far as she was concerned, the complications of love were irrelevant at best. It was her right, and duty, as a mother, to elect a worthy spouse for her daughter. Many candidates for the next Hokage had already emerged, but with much of the authority in dictating her successor, Sayuri planned to find herself a fine son-in-law. She would dethrone the pretentious Hyuga and grasp ahold of Konohagakure with her own dynasty. Or so, that was the plan, until the betrayal. Shigemi had fallen prey to a truly pathetic possum performance. Even after having undergone Sayuri's own unique course of training, Shigemi had turned out weak —weak enough to succumb to first world festivities. It was another foolish case of "love at first sight", and before Sayuri could slit the boy's throat, he had nestled his way into her daughter's heart. She was already planning babies, seemingly excited for Sayuri's evolution into a grandmother. What was worse was the fact that the boy, "Kiyoshi" (気止し; Literally meaning: The Spirit of Giving Up), was actually from an entirely separate village on the other side of the planet, one that Konoha cared little for, as far as conceiving relations went. He was likely from the slums, that Kiyoshi, birthed to a father who ran out on his woman. Sayuri wished to have no part in his crisis, she only wanted to make due of her own plans. As another bead of sweat trickled down from her forehead, she considered the possibility of hiring an assassin to play the role of her savior, so that she could save herself the trouble of having to touch filth the likes of Kiyoshi for a second time. It simply had to be done. There was no way in hell that Sayuri had endured over twenty years of raising a daughter to get nothing in return. Shigemi would marry a man of her mother's choosing, whether she liked it or not. Who did the little brat think she was anyway, defying Sayuri like that? The mere thought of another failure was simply too much to withhold along with the intensity of the heat. As she curled her hand into a fist, another person located somewhere along the lines of the Fire Country lost his life to a breath escaping the sun. Thick veins bulged out from her forehead, preparing for war against the droplets of sweat, while the violent beating of her heart summoned quakes that claimed entire households. For the wellbeing of his beloved —or so he claimed— Kakashi had escaped the nation alongside his disobedient children. In truth, it was more likely that he had done so out of the fear that Sayuri would have slain them otherwise. Coincidentally, he had always been the nurturing parent, and to Sayuri, it was his fault that they had matured into such complete retards. The thought plagued Sayuri for a moment. Perhaps it would be necessary to punish her husband as well. It was then that a knock at the door was heard. From across the room, Sayuri watched as the knob turned slowly, and as a fairly handsome man crept through into her office with another heap of papers held between his hands. He offered his greetings and even made some effort towards a casual conversation, yet wasted little time in transporting the papers to her desk. As he made to leave, however, he was met with the Hokage's gaze, and as a result, he was frozen solid. He lost control over his own body, and in the next second, his own consciousness. His once yellow pupils had turned red, mirroring Sayuri's sharingan. By the time the outside world had turned dark, shadows from a pile of clothes had permanently stained the hard wooden flooring of the Hokage's office as a result of prolonged tenure. Even now, Sayuri's face remained buried within her paperwork, though only because the entire top half of her naked body was rubbing against her desktop. Upon completion on his S-ranked mission, the man from earlier fell back onto the Hokage's chair from exhaustion. He looked up over at the ceiling as Sayuri's spine collided with his chest, wiping at the sweat stemming from his brow with his forearm. The heat of his quick breaths was felt by Sayuri along her neck, who was panting equally as hard. For hours on end, he had been forced into doing her bidding. Still, Sayuri didn't feel relieved. Not in the slightest. The presence of tsunamis along the coast of Kirigakure caused its shinobi to prepare in the case of a presumptive tailed beast attack. An army stormed the front, concealing the village with their signature mist. Their sensors confirmed the chakra signature to be on par with that of the nine-tails, even from such a long distance. Though, judging from the sheer amount of space between them and the next island, there was a great chance that it was likely higher. Home to specialists of the water release, it was only fitting that they were the first to develop the mysterious yellow water jutsu, even in the midst of such a fiasco. Apparently, many of the ninja had mastered it quite effortlessly, for it was now leaking out of their trousers unconsciously, in response to the growing chakra signature. The nine-tails didn't venture to the mist quite often, which could have only meant one thing: Sayuri had decided to vacation early this year. Her fist clad in iron, she drilled through entire islands within mere seconds, turning a once vibrant archipelago into nothing more than an exhibition of ruins for the ocean. She ventured upon another island next, one rich with various forms of plant life. The sweet scent of mangos appeared comforting to Sayuri at first, until she thought back at the time she had prepared a mango orientated feast for the members of her family. Her anger renewed, her hand formed into a tempered fist at her waist, and she looked around for something to pulverize. Home. There are few other words that encompass such a swirling mass of emotions, a word to describe a sanctuary, as well as a place of hope, and comfort. Beings of legend have called Konoha their home, have fought for it, bled for it, with many more dying to defend it. Looking upon it, Akihiko should have been filled with the same blessed feelings of nostalgia and bittersweet memories that often surfaced in the minds of his fellow konoha-nin, but he did not. He should have felt the same iron resolution echoed in the beating hearts of his comrades to defend her, and again he did not. As his gaze drank in the sight of Konoha, he felt nothing, no attachments, no fleeting desire to vanquish all who would seek its destruction. How could this place be a home when the last 23 years of his life had been spent ashore fighting in enemy territory? How many masks had he adopted to obtain vital intelligence that would tip the scales for Konoha? The only memories he had of this place are of blood and sweat; grueling training regiments designed to make him the perfect weapon, the invisible surgical implement to carve into Konoha's unsuspecting allies and enemies. Still his parents were the only good thing to come out of this place. While their time together had been short, Akihiko could remember them with perfect clarity. He remembered how they had given him the love only a true shinobi parent could ever give; a fighting chance in this world. They sacrificed everything up to and including their minds to ensure he could not only survive, but thrive in the hellish nightmare that was this world. They often spoke at length of the brutality of the Fourth Shinobi War, of how its revelations had shattered the myths long thought to be mere stories. They spoke of how gods had walked among them, beings whose will bent and twisted the very fabric of reality. Opening up their minds they shared these precious memories with him, allowing him to relieve those terrifying moments. No matter how heartless he was, how dismissive he was others feelings, he would always respect the sacrifice his parents had made for him, and cherish the love they gave him. As such he had found himself, experiencing something he could scarcely understand, an emotion so foreign he had nearly thought himself under some illusion. Seeing those petty children, spit on the sacrifices of their parents was... strange. He had known Kakashi, had respected the man's prowess and his efforts in securing victory for the shinobi world. He was a living legend, one of the few people to have walked side by side with demi-gods to challenge an old god only to emerge victorious. And Sayuri, that woman was a bundle of experiences, mentor, lover, friend, enemy. Every time they met what they were to each other changed into something new, something strange. He had found the unpredictability of their relationship so to speak an amusing curiosity. But seeing her now, seething with rage at the ungrateful, and disrespectful remarks of her unruly children, well it was probably the closest thing to compassion as he could ever get. He was mindful of course, never once letting his chakra seep out, keeping it fully suppressed as to prevent detection, coupled with a few sealing arrays to ensure integrity. He'd let things play out, though given her ire at the abysmal performance of this Kiyoshi, his mind toyed with several scenarios all of which involved ruining his reputation and ultimately leading to his unfortunate demise, with clues pointing towards... oh one of the brothers, the friend perhaps, maybe he found some terrible secret and exposed the boy into some monster. Yes that would do. Putting his thoughts aside, Akihiko returned his attentions to the reunion up to and after its conclusion. He was curious as to how Sayuri would handle all of her plans quite literally falling apart, and in typical Sayuri fashion, she did what she always would do when faced with such abject failure. Rutting it like an animal in heat, and/or systematic destruction of a local area. Not surprisingly she did both. Oh how her Uchiha and Senju blood must burn from the lack of satisfaction, it seems Kakashi, was not fulfilling his duties as husband if Sayuri was this pent up. The casual abuse of her authority and power to quite literally rape one of her own subordinates, the reckless abandon at which she unleashes annihilation on the environment, the flurry of emotions at the forefront of her mind that rebel at this despicable peace, the cage she has surrounded herself, its walls closing in on all sides. The distinct lack of potential challengers capable of pushing her to the brink and beyond? Truly they were alike than she cared to admit. They are relics of a tumultuous era, warriors who can only find peace in the embrace of conflict. At least he had chosen to embrace himself, though the same could not be said for Sayuri. Perhaps... yes he would give her this one mercy, a chance to at least alleviate and temporarily remove the shackles she has bound herself with, allow her the opportunity to embrace the beast that lies within. His mind made up, he revealed his presence, not all at once, otherwise she might perceive him as an enemy and react accordingly, no he allowed his presence to fill her senses gradually. Materializing as though from shadows itself he seemingly morphed into her peripheral vision, smiling pleasantly. Snapping his fingers he activated the seals on his hand and in plume of smoke a dinner table appeared, hot steamy food ready to be devoured along with complimentary wine and chairs. "Come," he said gesturing to the feast, "Sit, let us speak of things not dwelled on, and converse of things we dare not speak. For now we are neither enemy nor ally, just two weary warriors reminiscing of things long forgotten." The chakra flowing throughout Sayuri's arm quelled, and she looked towards the dinner table with a grave expression, as if lost in thought. Her senses deprived of their usual glamor, it took her a moment to fully comprehend Akihiko's arrival. What followed was even more peculiar; the one feared as Kami flinched, stepping backward with raised shoulders as a sly dog would to suggest immediate retreat. She hadn't expected anyone to arrive before her at such a time, even despite having made her presence upon the islands rather clear. Though she knew little of his current intentions, one thing was for certain: Akihiko was up to something. Judging by his tone, however, Sayuri felt as though it was safe to trust him, even if it were to be for a brief moment. Without saying a word, she took her seat across the table from where he was standing. Instead, her eyes did the talking; shimmering and engaging in frequent contact with his frame, they darted towards the full course meal, before finally settling upon the buttoned cork of the wine bottle. For what seemed like ages, they did not progress, remaining fixated upon the sealed nozzle. The only sudden movements made by Sayuri were the flicker of her left arm, which went to rest beneath her chin, and her teeth grasping a hold of her lower lip. Beneath the table, there was no folding of her leg over the other, and most surprising of all, for the first time in all of history, the planets she referred to as breasts appeared to be tamed. She did not offer Akihiko any of the usual smart talk he would have come to to expect in her company, much less any form of verbal greeting. "Is it not the fate of children," he began, his tone lacking the mocking inflection she had so often associated with Akihiko, "-to disappoint their parents?" He smiled wistfully, as he popped the cork to the wine, pouring both her and himself a glass. "Born from the union of legends, you were forged into a weapon for war, your body sullied and tainted by your duty. Your mind tormented by the inner demons of doubt, regret and uncertainty. Still you endured. Our paths are paved with corpses of our allies and enemies, a grim reminder to all that we sacrificed to reach where we are today. But you have achieved what few others could; a lasting peace, a loving husband, children to carry on your legacy, yet when the sun sets and its light fades into darkness, you realize that none of that fills the void in your heart." He sips from his glass, peering into the crimson liquid, as though lost in thought. Whether he is speaking the thoughts Sayuri herself will not vocally acknowledge or his own is uncertain, but perhaps it is both? She is unsure. "Tell me Sayuri, what do you make of this? These feelings and traitorous thoughts that haunt you in your dreams? Do you look upon your husband, your children and feel... regret?" She knows that he can read her passive thoughts, so why bother asking the question? "Yes I can feel your emotions," he answers her thought, "-their intensity is palpable as they are chaotic, but unless we give voice to our thoughts, unless we contextualize and give them meaning, they are as a vapor in a void. So indulge me." "Regret?" Sayuri whispered the word to herself over and over. Several images came to mind. In one, she saw a more youthful version of herself retrieving a tantō from a corpse. The sky had been darkened by the absence of day light, the fields tainted with blood. Removing her mask, she held it against her bosom and looked over the horizon, where the remains of her many enemies resided. In the blanket of the darkness, her expression was much like that of those resting by her feet —cold, vacant. She held within the palm of her hand an apple, one which was trembling in fear only moments prior. Now, it had suddenly grown still. Curiosity plagued her mind, and within the next frame of the memory, Sayuri had brought the fruit towards her mouth, revealing the rich juice inside by penetrating its flesh with her teeth. Still, even after having torn it apart for a more thorough examination of its interior, she could not seem to comprehend it, even with the aid of her crimson red sight. She stepped through the pile of dead bodies like stepping stones, and searched frantically for one whose torso was still intact. Once found, she gunned open the chest, and quickly collected another apple in between her hands; she stared blankly into it for several moments, and then, in a fit of anger, she crushed it with her fingers, and used the newly made juice to rinse her face. Why? Why would each and every person go through the trouble of lugging something so very useless around with them? It didn't make any sense. The scene vanished with a flash of light. In its place came another, one in which Sayuri had returned to an even more adolescent state. She was peering through the window of the Konohagakure academy, looking at all the children whom were once apart of her class. Those she worked with now had always praised Sayuri, referring to her as a privileged child; but each time she looked through that classroom, it became more and more difficult to believe them. She was meant to be superior to those children, having completed the very same studies they found to be a challenge several years prior. But for some reason, she felt like something much less in their presence. The way they smiled; the friends they made; their lack of responsibility. She found herself envying them. For as long as she could have remembered, Sayuri wanted to be like everyone else— she wanted, more than anything, to be normal. However, being normal had only inflicted a burden upon her. Children that didn't obey her commands; a husband who wasn't around to satisfy her demands; what good was any of that? In time, she was able to accept herself for being different. Now, she wanted nothing more than to pull away from it all; the rest of her life was simply dragging on. Her current lifestyle wasn't meant for a woman such as herself, and because adapting to the situation was most certainly out of the equation, she was forced to pretend, to make believe. Her kindness was nothing more than an act. The ties she had with her family may as well have been one big illusion, only, they had yet to break out of the genjutsu. For a few seconds more, she looked down at her hand, cradling the glass of wine. She looked away slowly, towards the man seated before her. "No matter how troublesome they turn out to be, I've yet to completely regret any experiment of mine. After all, it is our experiences that shape us, and I can't say I'd be the same woman today if I hadn't signed up to take part in this game," Sayuri said, speaking at last. Shrugging, she closed her eyes. An image of her children crept into her mind. "That being said, there are most certainly some levels to this game that test my patience, some more than others." Upon sharing the image of her children with Akihiko, a smile appeared across her face. "I'd be angrier now if I wasn't fully convinced that I'd have my way in the end." Category:Role-Play